The Bet
by The-Missing-Paige
Summary: Breda, Havoc, and Roy make a bet that Roy won't have sex with a man. He does, but picks the wrong man—or, rather, boy—to mess around with. What are the repercussions of pissing off a dangerous young alchemist who happens to have a thing for you?
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood, or any related characters. **

**Hope you enjoy, and please review~**

**IMPORTANT: At the moment, I have this rated as T. Let me know if I should keep it that way, or change it to M and add a lime/lemon (gasp) later on (it would fit into the plot, don't worry, the rating either way won't compromise the story). **

* * *

"I just don't understand why you had to take _this _one," Havoc moaned, sitting dejectedly at his desk. "I thought I had something serious going with her."

Roy waved him off. "She was pretty, and besides, I didn't _take_ her, she came at me. It's not my fault you can't hold a woman's attention."

Breda snickered, and offered Havoc a cigarette. Depressed as he was, he could never resist a smoke.

Roy was still talking. "Maybe you shouldn't bring your girls anywhere near me, if you're that worried about them leaving you."

At this point, perhaps invigorated by the nicotine, Havoc was irritated; he scowled. "Shove off, _Colonel_. I never see you with any ladies around, you know. They may go for you but they sure as hell don't stay."

"Oooh, Jean's got a point, maybe you're not as good as everyone thinks," Breda challenged.

Roy rolled his eyes. Havoc, he was pouting, and Breda, well, he probably just wanted to see an argument. "Boys, they never leave until they get laid. After that I usually don't _want_ them around. I don't do all that clingy bullshit that women are in to."

"I wonder," Havoc said, voice mocking as he turned to Breda, "if it's really the Colonel who leaves the ladies stranded, or if it's the other way around?"

Alright, that was too far. Roy wouldn't have his skills be ridiculed this way. "Look, I can get any girl you point out in bed—except maybe Olivier Armstrong, but come on, _no one_ could get her in bed—" they all chuckled at that, though they glanced around to be sure _Major_ Armstrong wasn't around to overhear. "—and she won't want to _or_ be able to move for a long while."

Havoc, evidently enjoying the reaction he was getting, kept pressing. "Yeah, yeah, fine. Maybe your skills with women are uncontested—maybe. But I bet you could _never_ get a _guy_ under the sheets. Even if you could persuade someone, you don't have the balls to go through with it."

And that was why Roy should have known better than to take lunch with Havoc and Breda, should have just eaten in his office. He just _had_ to get away from the paperwork…and what was he supposed to say now? Say he could be just as good with guys and be called a faggot, or say he would never do it and be considered a coward?

"Just because I don't choose to go with guys," he said smoothly, finishing his bite of sandwich, "doesn't mean I _can't_."

"All the same," Havoc snorted, "I bet you couldn't."

There, that was the word. A _bet_! Roy could save his skin by making this into a bet. That way neither would he _want_ to be with men—and therefore not _gay_—nor too afraid to do it. Perfect.

"Oh, you want to make it a bet, do you?" he challenged.

"A bet sounds good," Breda mumbled. "Even if I lose and you _do _get in some guy's pants, that knowledge is a win for me."

Roy scowled, about to make a scathing comeback, but was interrupted by Havoc. "Hold on, hold on," he said, hands in the air. "How can we trust you? You would say you fucked a guy just to win the bet and we'd never know better. I don't know about this homo here—" he gestured to Breda, earning himself a punch in the arm, "—but I _do not_ want to watch."

Roy rolled his eyes. "Men, if you can't trust your superior officer, you've got a lot more to worry about than a bet."

"Sir, I'd trust you with my life in combat, but otherwise you can be a dirty bastard."

"Oh, the insubordination."

"I've got it!" Breda snapped his fingers. "We don't have to watch—not that I'd want to, dumbass—but we can get proof. Just bring in the guy's pants the next day."

"What!?" That was ridiculous; Roy couldn't take anyone's _pants_…

"Yeah," Havoc grinned. "If you're as good as you say you are, the poor guy won't even know they're missing. Besides, you'd _have_ to leave first to take his pants, so that would prove all your claims."

Roy rested his head on his steepled fingers. What a mess. "Fine, fine, I'll take the pants. But what do I get when I win?"

"Lunch for a month?" Breda suggested.

"Not enough," Roy scowled. "If I have to fuck a _guy_ I should get more than free food. How about that and…" he thought for a moment, "…both of you have to ask Armstrong about his family history. _And listen_." Roy knew from experience that the Armstrong family history was long and tedious, and that some members got upset if they thought you weren't paying attention.

Breda groaned, but Havoc muttered, "Fine, and when we win, you have to do the same. And you have to bring in the pants tomorrow."

One day? That was all he got? "Shake on it."

They shook, and Roy stood.

"Hey, where you goin', Boss?" Havoc asked.

Roy sighed. "If I have to find someone, get him in bed, and steal his pants by tomorrow, I'm going to have to be alive. So in that case I need to get some paperwork done before Hawkeye shoots me…"

* * *

Back at his desk, behind piles and piles of paperwork, Roy tried to concentrate. Honestly, he did. But he couldn't stop thinking about what he had agreed to.

Roy liked _women_. He didn't _want_ to have to be with a guy. But what else was he supposed to do? He couldn't let his ego down and accept defeat before, and he _certainly_ couldn't back down from the bet now.

But who the hell was he going to aim for? Roy was leaning towards a hooker, but at the same time, he was usually at least a little classier than that. Besides, he didn't want to have to _pay_ someone—he shuddered, almost as protective of his wallet as he was of his pride.

Roy sighed. What else could he do, though, what other option was there with such a close deadline?

A knock sounded on his door. "Come in," he called wearily.

"I have the report you asked for, Colonel Bastard."

Did he really have to take this right now? Any more attitude and Roy might explode. "Give it here, Fullmetal."

Roy didn't even look up at the younger alchemist as he read and signed the report. But when he _did_, to dismiss the kid, he couldn't help but notice…

Okay, blonde hair. Roy didn't have a thing for blondes in particular, but Edward's hair was long and well-kept, and might be nice once it was out of that braid. His eyes were so wide, too, maybe edging towards feminine…and he _was_ nice and short…

None of that made up for the fact that Edward Elric was a guy, of course. Underneath the clothes, he didn't have any boobs, just a dick. Still, that was unavoidable in this situation.

And it was undeniable that it was easy—actually, a little _too_ easy in Roy's opinion, he would have to reign in his imagination from now on—to picture the younger alchemist underneath him, panting, sweaty, and begging for more…

Roy smiled widely, he couldn't help it. "Thanks, Fullmetal, you can go, but stop off here again before you leave today, alright?"

The boy looked at him oddly, probably because of the grin. He didn't even say anything, just nodded and walked out.

It was all Roy could do to keep from laughing at how uncomfortable just a smile had made Edward. Oh, what the boy had to look forward to tonight…


	2. Chapter 2

**Warning: lemon ahead. And I'm not even sorry.**

**Please review~**

* * *

"You wanted to see me, Colonel?"

Oh, Roy could have cackled. Edward was actually addressing him by title! He really had rattled the boy, hadn't he? How would he react to Roy's plans for tonight?

He tried to squash the brimming excitement, but Roy couldn't manage. It was wrong, it was strange, but he was actually looking forward to Ed. At the very least, the eagerness was helpful in that it kept him strong, kept him from doubting about having to be with a man.

Besides, how different could it be, provided he was on top?

"Yes," he said, trying and failing to sound bored. To hell with it. Roy allowed his grin to spread. "I was wondering if you might join me at my house for dinner?"

The boy's face was so entertaining! Edward gaped, mouth wide, and a blush rose on his cheeks. What was that about? Roy smirked as the silence grew longer and longer. "A simple yes or no will do, Fullmetal."

"Oh!" he gasped, snapping his mouth shut. "Yeah, I'd…I'd like to."

Success.

Roy stood up, pushing his chair into his desk. He strode across his office, holding the door open for the younger alchemist and waving his arm forward theatrically. "After you, then."

* * *

This was ridiculous. Edward could fight homunculi, tangle with chimeras, and face Winry with broken automail, but he was nervous walking down the street next to Roy.

He couldn't help it; he was too worked up over Roy's proposal that they have dinner together. Was it something to do with work? No, why would the man invite Ed to his house just for that? Unless it was something he didn't want the higher ups to hear.

Could it be a prank? Yes, Edward had to consider this possibility. It would just be like the bastard to do something like this as a joke.

But…Ed couldn't help but wonder if Roy was sincere. If he really just wanted to invite Edward to dinner. If, maybe, just maybe, he felt the same way Ed did…

He shook his head to clear it. That might me a little bit too optimistic.

Still, Edward thought, blushing, it would be nice if that was true.

Roy turned down a side road, and Ed followed, considering voicing his questions aloud. But, no; they were at his house.

Edward ran nervous fingers through his hair, wondering what was about to happen to him.

* * *

Roy had no intention of actually feeding the boy. He had brought Edward here to fulfill the terms of the bet: to get laid. He took his jacket off, kicked off his boots, and heard the sound of Ed following suit. Good; fewer clothes in the way.

Then Roy walked over to the couch, and plopped down. The younger alchemist lingered at the doorway, unsure. "C'mere Ed, you can sit."

Roy watched as the boy walked over. Just as he got close, Roy pushed out his foot…

* * *

"Oh shit!" Edward cried, trying not to realize that he had indeed just fallen on top of his superior. His face was warm, and he tried to stand back up, perhaps sit on the couch _beside_ Roy—but there was an arm wrapped around his back, keeping him firmly in place. Roy's other hand raised up, and a finger traced the outline of his mouth

"You have the most beautiful lips," the man whispered.

Was this really happening? Edward couldn't think of a response, just sat there, breathing shallowly as Roy leaned closer, and closer…

* * *

Roy was pleased with the kiss. It really was no different from kissing a woman. Edward was eager, too. As soon as Roy's lips made contact, the blonde opened his mouth, shifting closer and settling into a more comfortable position upon Roy's lap. This, he had not expected. Roy had been ready for a fight, for the feistiness that was typical of the young alchemist. But no, Ed seemed more than happy to make out with his superior.

Roy ran his hands up and down Edward's back, grinning slightly when smaller hands made their way to his collar, holding tight. He allowed himself to enjoy the kiss, enjoy the taste of the boy on top of him.

They broke for breath, Ed panting and flushed. The thought struck Roy like a snap: Edward was absolutely beautiful.

He leaned in once more, tilting the boy's chin up with a finger and then pressing his lips to the neck before him. Ed whimpered—how was this arousing him so much? This was supposed to be for a bet, not because he wanted it! But as the younger alchemist grabbed the finger in his mouth, pulling off Roy's glove and sucking the digit, Roy found he _did_ want it. Right now.

He growled low in his throat, sliding off the boy's jacket; why the hell did he wear a jacket _and_ a coat? By the noises coming from Ed, he was enjoying what was happening. Roy removed himself from the alchemist's now thoroughly abused neck and yanked his own shirt off, paying no attention to the lost buttons.

"Roy," Edward whispered as his own shirt was pulled over his head. "W-what're we—?"

Roy twisted them, laid the boy out on the sofa. Originally, he had planned to move to the bedroom, but now…well, he was far more aroused by the situation than he had any right to be, and he never was patient. He hushed the blonde, breathed his words, "You want to?"

* * *

Edward could not believe what was happening. It had to be a dream. Roy, the obnoxious Colonel he had longed for, and yes, lusted after for quite some time now, was atop him, asking if he wanted to fuck. It really was a scene straight from one of Ed's fantasies, only now it was real.

Was there any doubt as to how he would answer?

Edward nodded.

* * *

Roy kissed the boy again as soon as he got the affirmative. Briefly he wondered once more why Ed was being so compliant, engaged even. But it didn't matter, not right now, and maybe not ever.

He could feel the blonde thrusting up slightly, and Roy moved his thigh in between the thin legs to give him some friction. A moan sounded beneath him.

Roy was surprised by how hard Edward already was, and then it occurred to him: what if the boy was a virgin? Was it wrong to take him for a bet?

No. The younger alchemist clearly wanted this, and hadn't even asked about Roy's intentions. He would keep going.

In that case, it was time to rid them both of pants.

Roy stood to remove his own, enjoying the way Ed looked up at him through half-lidded eyes, his mouth hanging open. His automail hand crept down, grabbing himself through his leather pants. Roy grabbed the hand away—that was his job.

He didn't really consider what his job was until he was faced with Edward sans-bottoms. The boy had no boxers—really, with pants that tight, he wasn't surprised. Still, up until that moment, when he saw the blonde's erection, he hadn't registered that he was with another male.

Well, now was no time to stop.

In all actuality, it was easier to deal with a guy than a girl. Roy _knew_ what felt good, he didn't have to guess. He had Ed shaking and moaning with just a few strokes…but he didn't want the boy to cum. Not with his own member so neglected.

Roy pushed his hand up to Edward's face, probing his mouth with his fingertips. The alchemist opened up immediately, without hesitation. Roy wasn't sure if he knew what the fingers were for, or if he just liked them. The thought made him chuckle.

He pulled his fingers, now slick with spit, back out of Ed's mouth, receiving a pout. Yes, the boy _did_ like sucking on the digits; how interesting.

Roy moved up to kiss Edward, and did something he never thought he would: stuck his finger up another guy's ass.

Even in the instant before the blonde clenched, he was _tight_. And this was just one finger. Roy couldn't imagine how that tight heat would feel on his cock…a groan fell from his lips.

He moved his finger, in unfamiliar territory now. Sure, Roy knew the idea, but this was still new. Once Ed started to relax, he added another finger, and that insane tightness gripped him once more.

Roy checked the alchemist beneath him. He still seemed okay, fists clenching the cushions beneath him. The last one in, then.

Edward gasped and grimaced. Maybe Roy had been a bit hasty, but he was quick to apologize, allowing his other hand to caress the boy's leaking erection.

After a short while, Ed began to pant, actually pushing down on Roy's fingers. That was good—he _really_ couldn't wait anymore. He removed the digits, and the blonde whimpered. He positioned himself and—

Tears pooled in Edward's eyes as he was filled. Roy was in shock, this pleasure, this boy's fucking _ass_ squeezing him, was more than he had bargained for. He traced gentle circles on Ed's chest, trying to calm him, and was only dimly aware of the feel of nails and metal clawing at his back.

"Move," the blonde gasped. "Please." Roy looked down, and it was exactly as he had pictured the scene. Edward, sweaty and flushed (and with a growing hickey on his neck, that was a nice addition), begging for more.

So, Roy obeyed.

The first thrust brought a groan of out him, and an oddly high pitched moan from Ed. The second, Roy managed to control himself, merely panting, while the boy beneath him moaned louder. He sped up, and Edward started to beg.

"Fuck, Roy, fuck me, please, harder—OH!" the blonde screamed as Roy hit his sweet spot. If Roy had been more experienced, more in control of himself—he really was losing it at this point—he might have tried to do so again, but as it was, he simply complied with the first request: harder.

It wasn't long before Ed was screaming again. "Shit, holy shit, Roy, I'm gonna—"

And he did "gonna," the blonde's body clenching wonderfully around Roy as he came. Roy thrust once, twice, three times before emptying his load into the boy, not bothering to stop his moan.

Roy pulled out as he came down from his high. He managed to fall in such a way that he didn't land on Edward; it was a tight squeeze, but they both fit on the couch, panting together.

He would have to remember to take the boy's pants in the morning. He was far too exhausted to deal with all that now, and Ed was already dozing off beside him.


	3. Chapter 3

Roy had never before been glad that he worked so much. Now, he was used to getting up early, which came in handy when trying to sneak out before your partner from last night woke up.

Roy stretched, gently moving off the couch—had he really slept on the sofa all night? Never before had sex tired him out so thoroughly…or pleasantly.

The thought brought a twitch of annoyance. He _had_ really enjoyed last night. Roy supposed he would even do it again, which probably made him bisexual. Well, as long as it felt good.

Time to stop thinking and get to work.

Roy took a quick piss, and cleaned the dried fluids off his stomach. Stretching once more and stifling a yawn, he checked the clock: 5:30. Plenty of time.

Roy looked in the mirror. No, he didn't need to shave today, but his hair was a mess. He sighed, dragging a comb through it until he was satisfied.

Next, uniform. Roy dressed mechanically, not even having to think about what his fingers were doing, which was bad. His mind thus freed, he found himself feeling…guilty.

Edward had obviously enjoyed last night. He hadn't put up any resistance at all. What were the implications? Roy didn't want to think about that. The fact was, he was going to leave, take Ed's pants and win the bet, and never revisit the issue. Usually, abandoning his partners didn't affect him, even if he knew they would be hurt, but the idea of the blonde on his couch waking up alone…Roy just knew the younger alchemist would be upset, and was oddly distressed by that knowledge.

But what could he do?

He was just leaving his room when he considered that he was about to abscond with Edward's trousers. The least Roy could do was leave the boy another pair. The guilt would only get worse, otherwise.

He grabbed a pair of casual, black pants, the closest thing he could find to Ed's usual attire. They would have to do.

Roy walked out to the living room, and found the pair of leather pants lying discarded on the floor. He picked them up, folded them, and grabbed his jacket, tucking the pants inside. Roy left his own pair of black ones at Edward's feet.

He pulled on his boots and placed his hand on the doorknob.

But Roy couldn't leave.

He groaned softly. This was ridiculous! Thinking fast, he grabbed a pen and paper, scrawling a quick message:

_Left you some new pants, yours got a little dirty._

There. That was fine. A good excuse.

Thus satisfied (for the most part), Roy ignored the further prickling in his conscience and left for Headquarters.

* * *

Edward took his time walking up. He knew he was conscious, but…he couldn't let himself open his eyes. He was pretty much convinced last night was a dream, and he just wanted to live it a little longer.

But he had to pee.

Groaning a yawn, Ed opened his eyes and was disoriented for a moment. This wasn't his place—so last night _must_ have been real. His heart leapt and he sat up to look for Roy, wincing. His ass hurt a lot more than he had expected, not that it hadn't been worth the pain. Edward couldn't help a slight blush as he recalled the previous night's activities.

He swiveled to get up and something fell to the floor: a pair of dark pants and a note.

Edward read it, and then looked around. Why didn't Roy just tell him that in person?

"Roy?" he called. No answer. Ed stood and walked down the hall, stopping by the bathroom. He looked in the bedroom and the guest room, and then made his way to the kitchen.

Roy wasn't there.

Worry creased Edward's brow. Why hadn't the man stayed? How could Roy just leave him alone in a strange house after _fucking_ him? Ed was beginning to get a little pissed off. It was only a little after seven, Roy should still be home!

He collected his clothes and threw them on, along with the pants Roy had left (rolling them up and scowling as he did so, they were far too long). Edward wasn't afraid of the man, or of confrontation in general.

He'd just go up to Roy's office and ask him what the disappearing stunt was all about.

* * *

Roy beckoned Breda and Havoc into his office as soon as they arrived. Normally bleary-eyed, the two looked eager and awake. Of course they were. Roy smirked, closing the door.

And it popped back open. The think had been doing that for a while. If Roy knew what was wrong, he would have just fixed it with alchemy, but he was way too busy to figure it out. He'd call maintenance later.

"So," Havoc said, grinning and chewing the end of a cigarette. "How badly did you fail?"

Roy sighed dramatically. "I'll have you know, I fulfilled the terms of the bet." That had both their eyebrows rising. He reached a hand into his jacket, and pulled out Edward's pants, allowing them to fall out of their folded state on his desk.

His two subordinates stared open mouthed, then glanced at each other.

* * *

Edward arrived at Headquarters and was about to barge into Roy's office when he heard said man speaking inside. He sighed. As little as he cared about interrupting, he didn't know if Roy would dismiss the people he was speaking to in order to talk to Ed. And he _was not_ going to discuss this in front of anyone else. Edward placed his ear by the slim opening in the doorway, listening in.

"—fulfilled the terms of the bet."

Ed grinned. That was interesting.

He turned to peer inside, his smile vanishing in an instant as he caught sight of a very familiar pair of leather pants tumble onto Roy's desk.

* * *

"Y-you didn't!" Breda choked out.

"Yes, I did," Roy smiled wide at his success.

"But those are Ed's pants!" Havoc said, an odd look in his eye.

Roy was growing irritated. "Yes, well, you didn't specify who I had to have sex with. You just said it had to be a man."

Breda and Havoc stared at him like he was crazy. Finally, the latter spoke up. "Sir, with all due respect, we figured you'd go after a prostitute or a hooker or something. Not someone you know…"

"I don't see the difference."

Breda spoke this time, folding his arms and glaring at Roy. "He's just a kid! Does he even know what this was about?"

* * *

Edward unfroze, shock giving way to fury. How _dare_ that asshole! He pushed open the door, enjoying the loud slam it made as it hit the opposite wall. He tried to keep his temper under control.

"No," he growled, answering Breda's question. "I sure as hell didn't."

Ed walked up to the bastard's desk, grabbing his pants. "How _could_ you?" he asked, teeth gritted. Control, control.

"Fullmetal, I—"

Okay, screw control. Edward reached up, with his automail arm, and slapped the man hard across the face. Neither Breda nor Havoc made any move to stop him, and when the dick turned to face him again, his cheek was a gratifying shade of red.

"You're an _ass_!" he yelled. "I honestly thought you were better than this. Don't you give a shit about _anyone_? Me?" Edward stopped himself, spinning around before he could reveal how hurt he was. "I should fucking castrate you, you son of a bitch," he whispered, back turned to all three men. "You're lucky I don't have it in me right now."

And he walked out.


	4. Chapter 4

Roy was used to being just a little narcissistic. He had an overinflated ego and didn't see that as a problem, and was usually perfectly comfortable saying that he loved himself.

So this new found doubt, this guilt that ate away at him and berated him, was something new. The last time Roy had felt this way was in Ishbal.

Of course, what he had done to Edward wasn't as bad as the genocide in the east…but the feelings were the same.

Roy couldn't get the boy's face out of his mind—_faces_, actually. First, Ed would pop into his head, eyes half-lidded, mouth open and panting, hair sweaty and strewn across his face…and then he would morph, eyes growing angry, betrayal written in the downward curve of his mouth. It was driving Roy insane, this guilt for what he had done, and the added fact that he had genuinely enjoyed his time with Edward didn't help. It seemed the attachment only made everything _worse_.

At this point, Roy was desperate. He wanted, needed to apologize, as much for his own peace as for Ed's. He really didn't want the blonde to hate him. But Edward hadn't come into work for the past three days; Roy couldn't simply call the younger alchemist into his office and talk to him.

Which was why he found himself poised to knock at the Elric brothers' door in the military dorms.

However, actually doing so was proving more difficult that he had imagined. Roy truly hadn't meant to hurt Ed, but how was he supposed to convince the blonde of that? He had to admit it, in hindsight, he had acted like a dick.

Well, five minutes of waiting hadn't given him an answer. He would just have to wing it. Roy knocked.

"Who is it?" Edward's muffled voice called from within. He sounded almost cautious, as though he knew Roy would come looking for him.

"It's me," he answered, leaning in towards the door. Ed would recognize his voice, especially if he was expecting him as Roy thought.

There was a pause. Then a short, "Fuck off!" Then the noise of mismatched feet walking not towards the door, but away from it.

Roy groaned. What was he supposed to do now? He couldn't just barge into the dorm—well, actually, he could, but it probably wouldn't gain him any points with the boy he was attempting to reconcile with.

He was about to kick in the door anyway, when it swung open to reveal Alphonse, his armor creaking. "Colonel? What…was that about?"

Roy blurted out the words that came to mind unthinkingly. "He hasn't told you?"

Now Al was cautious. "No…told me what?"

Roy ran a hand through his hair, sighing. He really didn't want to face Alphonse's wrath when he told him what he had done to Edward, but on the other hand, Al might be able to help him make up with the boy. "I, um…I messed up."

Alphonse snorted. "I got that when Brother told you to 'fuck off.' What did you do?"

Oh, Roy _so_ did not want to do this. "I…I kinda made a bet with Havoc and Breda. A bet that I would have sex with another guy…"

Immediately, Al seemed to get where he was going with this. "Colonel! Please tell me you didn't!"

Roy turned away, unable to look Alphonse in the "eye." "I did. And Edward found out…"

Al was silent for a long time. "Well, you definitely deserve being told off. Did he hit you?" Roy nodded. "Good. You know, this explains why Brother's been sulking and why he's refused to go into work…" the suit of armor sighed. "You two should talk." He stepped aside, letting Roy walk into the dorm.

"Thank you," Roy said earnestly, making his way to one of the chairs in the small room. It had been so long since he lived in the dorms that he had almost forgotten how they looked. Ed and Al had furnished theirs with only a single bed, as Alphonse didn't need to sleep, and the rest of the space was taken up by a large-ish table with two chairs, along with a small fridge.

"I'll get Brother," Alphonse said shortly. "He's hiding in the bathroom."

That's right, Roy had been wondering where the boy had gotten to—there was a miniscule bathroom in a door off to the side of the main room, right next to the closet.

Al hadn't even opened the door before Edward spoke. "No, I'm not coming out, I don't want to see that bastard."

"Brother…"

"No!" Edward insisted. "He's a dick!"

"Edward, please," Roy urged. "I'm sorry."

No sooner were the words out of his mouth that Edward burst out of the bathroom, clapping his hands and transmuting a spear out of the wall. "Hell no!" he hissed, pointing the weapon threateningly at Roy. "You really think 'I'm sorry' is going to make me forgive you? You _fucked _me for a _bet_!" Ed's chest was heaving, his face twitching. Infuriated as the blonde was acting, Roy thought he looked as though he wanted desperately to cry.

"Edward, let me finish. It's been a long time since I've regretted something this much. I honestly wasn't thinking—when I made the bet, I didn't know it was going to be you, that just kind of…happened."

"Yeah," the boy scoffed, clenching his trembling fingers tighter around the spear. "Oh look, it's Edward Elric, how about I see how hard it is to get him in my bed tonight? I get it, alright, I'm just your fucking plaything. You only did it to see if you could, jackass, I know!"

"But I feel…awful," Roy admitted. "I never was aiming to hurt you—I never wanted you to find out, actually—"

"Fucking perfect!" Edward threw his weapon, impaling the chair an inch from Roy's ear. "That makes it all better. What makes you think that _leaving_ me, _alone_ in your house after that hurts any less that it being for a bet? What makes you think that hearing the words, 'Oh, it was just a one night thing, I'm done with you' and being thrown on the ground like garbage would have ben any better?"

Alphonse tried to tuck himself further into the corner he was occupying, not knowing what to say or how to react to what was happening.

Roy debated for a moment. He really didn't want to say this in front of Al, but he wanted Ed to know… "Listen, I don't mean that either. I…I actually really enjoyed the experience, and I'd be more than happy to do it again—"

The blonde actually snarled, tackling Roy to the ground. "I—am not—your fucking—_sex toy_!" He punctuated every other word with a punch, to Roy's face, his chest, his stomach…

Roy managed to push the boy off thanks to his size, wincing as the blows were dealt. Okay, yes, even he felt like he deserved them, but _damn_ that automail fist hurt!

As Roy picked himself (and his toppled chair) up off the floor, Alphonse moved forward, restraining his brother. Ed glared at Roy and continued to yell. "You can't just fuck with me whenever you want! I'm not some slave for you to use, I'm a fucking person!"

"Edward—"

"Get out!" The words started as a shout, but morphed into a wail. The blonde was shaking in the armor arms that held him, face contorted. It was painful to see.

Roy felt his heart clench as he turned around, bent slightly from the ache in his stomach. He could feel his cheek swelling—he was going to be bruised tomorrow.

He opened the door, half turning back, meeting Edward's eyes, narrowed and wet with tears of anger and pain.

"I'm sorry," Roy whispered as he left.

How had he managed to fuck things up so royally, leave Edward _more_ upset than before, when all he had wanted to do was apologize?


	5. Chapter 5

Edward didn't want to show up for work, didn't want to chance seeing Roy…but it was his _job_, he didn't have much of a choice.

He tried to be inconspicuous, keeping his gaze lowered, his hands in his pockets…but sure enough, Ed had barely entered the building when Lieutenant Hawkeye cornered him.

"Edward Elric!" Ed winced, and turned towards her voice, relieved to see the woman hadn't pulled out her gun yet. "Where have you been these past few days?"

Edward couldn't think of a response fast enough. Hawkeye grabbed his arm, turning him around…towards the door to that bastard's office. Ed scowled.

"Come on, you'll have to report to the Colonel."

Oh _hell_ no. Edward wrenched himself out of her grasp and spat, "No _fucking way_."

Falman, who had been sitting quietly at his desk, looked up in shock. Sure, everyone knew that Ed was perpetually testy with the Colonel, but this was ferocity to a frightening degree.

Hawkeye was also surprised, but responded by pulling her gun out. "Ed," she warned.

Edward stood, feet braced. "Shoot me if you want, I am _not_ dealing with that jackass."

At that moment, Ed saw Breda and Havoc enter behind the Lieutenant, and his scowl deepened.

Havoc walked over, and nudged Edward away from the standoff, towards another hallway. "We'll talk to him Lieutenant, he's just a bit riled up is all."

"A _bit_—" Ed began, only to be cut off by Breda's hand slapping over his mouth. After a long pause, Hawkeye nodded and walked away.

The two older men half dragged Edward into the hall, pushing him into an empty room and closing the door. In any other situation, this would have looked suspicious, but if anyone was in danger it was Havoc and Breda.

As soon as they released him, Ed was yelling. "Fucking hell, let me out! I'm here, aren't I, isn't that good enough?"

Havoc and Breda glanced at each other. "Ed," the latter began, "we're really sorry about what happened."

Edward pulled at his hair, frustration coloring his face in splotches. He had half a mind to murder someone. "_Why_ the _hell_ does everyone think an apology is going to make this okay? _You made a bet with that jackass that he would fuck me_—"

"No," Havoc interrupted, backing away slightly in the face of the young man's fury. "We made a bet that the Colonel would have to fuck a man. We had no idea he would choose you…honestly, we never meant for this to happen."

Ed stood there, seething for a moment before his anger abruptly ran out. He walked a few paces to stare out the window. "I know," he sighed. "I know. I shouldn't be angry with you. I just—" he broke off, looking for the words. "I could kill him," he finally whispered.

Breda tried again. "Ed, we understand—"

"_No_," Edward insisted, spinning around. "You _don't_."

Neither Breda nor Havoc could think of a way to break the uncomfortable silence. Finally, Ed let out a short huff. "Look, I'm at work, I'm functioning, I'm doing everything I'm supposed to. Just leave me alone."

Shouldering past the two men, Edward collected himself. He would go to the library—that was still working, researching, so no one could fault him, and it should help him concentrate on something else, anything besides that bastard.

* * *

Having successfully made it to his private room in the library (which has cost him a fortune, but was well worth it), Ed allowed himself to relax, to deflate just a little. Moodily, he grabbed the first volume that caught his eye off the shelf, sitting in the chair to settle down and read. Somehow, this didn't feel natural, didn't feel quite right. Edward stood up, and instead situated himself on the floor, in the corner.

That was good. The position mirrored how he felt—trapped, small, insignificant…

Edward hastily closed the door on that train of thought, flipping through the pages of his alchemy book. There must be something in there to distract him…

Nearly an hour later, nothing had captured his attention. Ed was almost glad for the knock on the door.

Alphonse entered the room, his bulk taking up the majority of the available space. His eyes searched, before landing on Edward in the corner. "Brother," he sighed. "What are you doing?"

"I'm studying, Al. What does it look like?"

"Brother, I was just at Headquarters." Edward felt his face burning, and looked down at his book once more. It was so absurd that his _younger_ brother could make him feel like a child about to get a lecture. "Look, I know you're hurt, and I'm not going to lie, I'd love to smack the Colonel myself, but you really need to talk about it—"

"Been there, done that, wasn't worth it," Ed said shortly. He didn't want to talk about this, didn't want to think about any of it. Sleep sounded good, except that he would probably _dream_ about this shit, too.

"Brother!" Alphonse insisted. "You can't just fight about it for forever, maybe he really does feel bad, you should at least—"

Edward shot upright, face contorted. "Shut up!" he screamed. "Shut up, Alphonse! You have no idea—I'm not fighting about anything. But I don't want to have anything to do with that jackass anymore, I'm _done_, and I hope he feels bad, I hope he _rots_ with guilt." Al tried to interrupt. "I don't own him _anything_ either, and if you feel that sympathetic towards him you can go comfort the son of a bitch."

Alphonse stood silently, and briefly Ed was overcome with a desire to take back his words, but it was too late. Al spun, his metal creaking, and walked out the door.

Edward let himself fall to his knees on the floor. Try as he might, he just couldn't contain his emotions, and a few tears leaked out even as he covered his face with his hands.

* * *

A knock. Roy was too tired to deal with this—plus he had managed to avoid being seen so far, and he wasn't eager to face anyone, not with the bruise growing on his cheek where Ed had punched him.

Another knock, this one more insistent. Well, at the very least, it couldn't be Lieutenant Hawkeye; she wouldn't be this patient with him. Roy sighed.

"Enter," he called, ducking his head and keeping his eyes focused on the paperwork before him.

"Boss, you've got a serious problem."

Oh. It was Havoc, and—a quick glance upward through his bangs—Breda. Roy frowned slightly. "What do you mean?"

Breda snorted. "C'mon, you know what we're talking about. Edward."

At the mention of the boy's name, a queasy feeling struck Roy, an odd ache in his chest. Even if he had formulated a response, he would not have been able to force it past the lump in his throat.

After a short pause, Havoc continued. "You really hurt him, Boss. You know that, don't you?"

"Yes," Roy whispered, immediately coughing to clear his voice. Even with all that had happened, he hated to sound so weak in front of his subordinates. "But what am I supposed to do?"

"Talk to him?" Breda suggested, as though it was the simplest thing in the world.

Finally, Roy looked up from his desk. Both of his men gasped at the angry wound on his cheek. "I tried," he muttered, "and somehow I just made it worse. I _know_ he's hurt, and I really do feel awful…but he just doesn't trust me. He doesn't believe me. I don't know what else to do."

The door opened, and Roy was about to shout at the newcomer before he saw it was Alphonse. "You need to apologize, again," the boy instructed, as though he had not just entered the conversation. "And if Brother won't let you talk to him—which he won't, he almost hit me just for suggesting that a few minutes ago—you need to find some other way to do it."

Roy looked at the three people standing before him, mulling it over. An idea struck him, a stupid, almost romantic idea, but he would take it. "Alphonse, is your dorm empty?"

Al nodded.

"Excellent. Cover for me with the Lieutenant, won't you?"

Havoc grinned. "Sure. We'll tell her you're in the men's room having a terrible time."

Roy glared at the man, putting a finger to his lips as he transmuted a door in the side of his office and slipped out.

* * *

**Wah sorry for the boring chapter, but it was necessary to set up for the next few-which will be much more exciting, I promise!**


	6. Chapter 6

Edward was cautious on his way back to the dorms, not wanting to encounter Alphonse again. Ed felt bad for snapping at his little brother, but he _definitely_ didn't want to rehash what had happened once more.

Ideally, he wouldn't return to the dorms, instead fining another hideout until he was ready to deal with life, but Ed was desperately hoping some food and then some sleep would let him stop thinking about that bastard.

Unfortunately, upon arriving at his door, Ed found he would be unable to do just that. He had pressed his ear to the door, to see if he could hear Al shifting in the room, when he saw the note taped to the wood.

Edward tore it down, reading the first line, then spotting the second, smaller one underneath:

_I know you won't talk to me, and I understand why. So I'm telling you this in some notes._

_(Check your table)_

Ed was certain that if he wasn't so emotionally drained, he would be furious. That jackass had the nerve to come to his _dorm_, to torment him like this when Edward was doing his best to avoid him? As it was, Ed didn't have the strength to keep up his normal bravado, and was simply hurt. The dull ache that had rested in him since he found out about the bet sharpened, and it felt like a knife was being pushed into his chest. Unbidden, tears sprang to Edward's eyes as he opened the door.

He really didn't have a conscious intention of doing as the note said. The best thing to do would be to throw the one from the door away, and ignore anything else he might find.

But Ed couldn't do it. Note still clutched tightly in his hand, he made his way to the table as though in a trance, the paper waiting on it easily visible.

Shaking slightly, wondering why he was subjecting himself to more pain, Edward picked it up. The second note read:

_I'm sorry, and I really do mean that, even though you won't believe me. You have every right not to, but I still have to say it: I'm sorry._

_(Go to the bathroom door)_

Again with the useless apologies! Ed felt broken, used…this stupid "I'm sorry" business wasn't good enough!

Honestly, Edward didn't know what would be good enough, what would make him forgive R—the bastard. Ed felt like a dog, not belonging to the military, but to an abusive owner. He wanted to forgive the jackass, to trust him again, but he couldn't, not after that.

Edward stepped towards the bathroom door hesitantly. It was definitely better to read these stupid notes now, get them over with, than to find them later. Ed couldn't prolong these asinine reminders.

The third note read:

_I've never felt so guilty, so disgusted with myself. I never meant to hurt you, and I can't believe I didn't think about how you would feel. I guess I really am a bastard. Again, I'm sorry. _

_(Check your fridge)_

At least he would admit it. Edward noted absently that the tears he had been trying to hold back, trying to tell himself he didn't need to shed, were now flowing freely down his cheeks. This was ridiculous. Ed was overcome by the sudden, violent urge to turn to someone for comfort, to—no. None of that.

Edward had to bend down to retrieve the fourth note, being careful not to squash the others in his hand as he did so. Ed didn't know why he was bothering to preserve them.

This one made his stomach clench painfully:

_Until I lost it, I didn't realize how much I enjoyed your presence, your trust. _

_(Go to your pillow)_

To think that that jackass, Roy, was pretty much admitting he missed Edward…that hurt just as bad as anything else. The man couldn't know—not unless Alphonse had told him—Ed's feelings. There was no way he knew why Edward was hurt so bad. So how was he able to pinpoint the exact things that were breaking Ed's heart?

Edward made his way to his bed, running his hands over the pillow. Whether or not he meant it that way, Roy was making this rather awkwardly intimate, and Ed couldn't help but remember in clarity _that_ night—that betrayal. He hiccupped, succumbing to the tears but refusing to sob. He didn't _want_ to cry over the man any more.

The fifth note read:

_I know I probably can't fix this, but I want to. So please…_

_(Under your blanket)_

Sensing the end was near, both for the notes and his control over his emotions, Edward hastily grabbed his covers, revealing a last note, this one only a single line; only four words:

_Just let me try._

Ed collapsed to a kneel for the second time that day, leaning heavily on his mattress. He buried his face in the familiar blankets, muting his escaping sobs. He didn't want this—but he did. Fucking hell, Edward _wanted_ to let Roy try, wanted to go back to the way it was before. Only that was a lie, and Ed didn't have the strength to lie to himself anymore.

Edward wanted _more_ than he had had before. _That_ was why he had been so open to Roy's advances—because he had been hoping for them to occur. He had respected and liked the man, had wanted to _be_ with Roy.

And some part of Ed, despite all the pain and betrayal he had gone through with that stupid ass bet, still craved that.

Edward slid to the floor, lifting the notes in front of him. He read them again, and again. Each time through hope ripped through him, followed by the careful pang of disbelief. No matter what Ed _wanted_ (even if it was stupid to want a relationship with that bastard of a man), he couldn't trust him. Even Edward knew better.

Eventually, he made his way to the table, pulling himself upright. Edward laid the notes out, then scooped them together in a pile. He clapped his hands, and placed them on the paper.

When the light faded, Ed was staring at a paper heart, appropriately fragile. He picked it up, tearing along the center line until the two halves were connected by just a tiny scrap of the notes.

Edward placed it back on the table, and scrambled for a pen. On one half of the broken heart, he wrote, "I wish I could hate you," whispering the words as he scrawled them. On the other half, he admitted what he didn't want to. "But I just can't."

Being angry was so much easier than being honest, but it wasn't helping Ed, and he couldn't keep it up any more.

Edward picked up his hasty creation, and headed for the door. A quick glance outside, at the gathering darkness, assured him that by the time he reached Headquarters, everyone would be gone.

Ed would leave the heart on Roy's desk, and the man could do with it what he wished.


	7. Chapter 7

Roy was accustomed to seeing a mound of paper on his desk every morning. Forms to sign, reports to look over, and notices from the higher-ups…it was endless.

Yet when Roy walked into his office, he found paper strewn not across his desk, but across his floor. Thin sheets covered the carpet on either side of his desk as though they had been blown into chaos by the wind, or swept off the desk in a fit of rage.

Roy walked over, bent down to examine the papers, and sighed. Everything was mismatched, none of the forms in order anymore…as long as it took to complete paperwork, Roy shuddered to think how much longer it would take to _organize_ it.

He wanted a drink.

Roy stood up, and in doing so caught a flash of white on his desk. Fantastic; one paper out of who knew how many hundreds was still in place.

But as he moved to look at it, Roy realized it wasn't _ordinary_ paper. He picked it up, cursing as one side fell away, barely managing to stay connected to the rest. He pulled it back up, and his breath caught in his throat.

It was a heart—a torn and broken heart.

And not just any heart. Words were printed on the paper, and it wasn't hard for Roy to recognize his own writing. One phrase jumped out at him: "Just let me try."

These were the notes Roy had given Edward.

Filled with trepidation, Roy turned the heart over, and saw the boy's large words printed over his own. He read them aloud, wondering what was going through Ed's mind as he transmuted this heart. "I wish I could hate you," was written on one half. Roy choked on that one word, hate.

Could the blonde really hate him?

Yes. Yes, he could, and maybe he should. Still, Roy balked at the thought of Edward feeling such a passionate dislike for him. It made him uneasy.

The next words, those written on the other half of the torn heart, calmed him slightly, and Roy whispered them to himself: "…but I just can't."

So then, Roy was wrong; Ed _couldn't _hate him. His heart tried to soar, relief flooding through him, but Roy couldn't help but think of how the boy would have felt writing this. To _want_ to hate him was, perhaps, worse than Edward actually hating him.

Roy had never felt so acutely how much pain the blonde must be in.

Still, he found himself hopeful. This heart, this pathetic, almost tragic message, was a response. This was Edward answering him, not with anger as he had done so previously, but with sadness. And perhaps that would make him more open to listening to Roy.

He turned abruptly, placing the heart gently inside his jacket, and strode out of his office, though the work day had barely started. None of that mattered; if now was his chance to reconcile with Ed, he wasn't going to pass it up.

But his Lieutenant had other ideas.

"Sir, you've only been here a few minutes. You have to do your paperwork."

Roy glanced nervously to the side, and saw Hawkeye standing there, gun pointing towards his face. He groaned internally. Why was it that when he was trying to do the right thing, he was being stopped?

"I have to go, Lieutenant. It's important…crucial."

But Riza Hawkeye wasn't one to go easy on him, especially with such a vague excuse. "A coffee break is not that important, especially considering you haven't been here long enough to need one."

Roy's heart thudded in his chest. He had to get out, he _had_ to. Who knew how long it would be before Edward reverted to anger and refused to see him? Hell, Roy didn't even know if the boy would talk to him now, but he had to try when he felt he had the chance. "Lieutenant, I'm practically begging you—and I don't beg. I have to go; I have to talk to Edward."

Hawkeye raised her eyebrows, but did not lower her gun. "Is this about his outburst yesterday? I never did find out what that was about…what do you need to talk to him about?"

Roy found himself beginning to sweat under the intensity of her gaze. How was he supposed to get out of a direct question like that? He couldn't _tell_ Hawkeye—she would kill him before he could get out of Headquarters.

But what choice did he have? Perhaps risking being shot was the only way to escape.

Roy sighed. "Please let me finish speaking before you shoot me, okay? I'm trying to fix this." He saw Hawkeye's eyes narrow. "I…I had made a bet with Breda and Havoc that I would have sex with a man."

The Lieutenant's eyes rolled towards the ceiling momentarily, as though begging some higher power to help her deal with him. "And," Roy continued, "I did it. Only I messed up…I did it with Edward."

At this Hawkeye's hand tensed, her finger nudging the trigger. "Colonel," she growled.

He held up his hands, though they wouldn't be of any defense if the woman decided to use her gun. "He found out, and Ed's rather understandably upset—I need to go talk to him, I have to apologize."

To his surprise, the Lieutenant closed her eyes. Roy thought he had won the battle unscathed, when a shot rang out.

Upon realizing he was still alive, and not even in pain, Roy opened his eyes, which he had shut instinctively. There was a smoking hole in the wall just an inch from his ear.

Her face twisted in a grimace, Hawkeye shot the same spot three more times before lowering her gun. She opened her eyes, took in the hole in the wall. "You're lucky," she hissed, angrier than Roy had ever seen her. "I missed. You go apologize—you have to fix this with Edward. Afterwards…" she trailed off, and looked away. "…I might just kill you still."

Roy didn't say anything, but walked away, half-expecting a round in the back. But the Lieutenant didn't change her mind, and he left Headquarters.

* * *

Standing outside the Elric brothers' dorm room, Roy ignored any hesitancy, any fear he might have, and knocked. "Edward?" he asked softly, remembering the last time he had come here. His cheek throbbed with the memory.

It was silent inside for a moment, but Roy waited, and got his response. "What?" The voice was muffled and rough, but unmistakably Ed's.

"Edward, I need to talk to you. I—I saw the heart…"

Roy heard the soft sound of feet sneaking towards the door, though it did not open.

He continued, "I have to see you. I know you don't want an apology, and I know one's not going to fix what I've done, but I still need to make sure you know how horrible I feel."

There was a soft thump on the other side of the door, and Edward's voice issued from below. "I don't want to see you," he murmured, voice thick.

Roy was struck with the sudden desire to reach through the door to get to the boy. Ed sounded so close to tears, it was breaking Roy's heart. "I don't want it to be like this," Roy whispered back, sitting on the hallway floor to be more level with the blonde.

"How else could it possibly be?"

"Edward, please," Roy begged. "Let me in."

A sound issued from behind the wood—a hiccup or a sob, Roy couldn't tell. "Please," he said again. "I can't stand hearing you like this. Knowing you're so upset, it's killing me. Let me in, Ed. Just for five minutes."

The floorboards creaked, and Roy got the distinct impression that Edward was rising. He himself leapt to his feet, watching the doorknob turn.

His first glance at Ed told him that the blonde was in worse shape than he had expected. His hair was tousled, clothes rumpled, and his eyes…red rimmed and shadowed, the skin below them puffy from tears.

Instinctively, Roy stepped inside and grabbed the boy, pulling him into a tight hug. He felt so…responsible. He had hurt Edward, and now he had to fix it.

The blonde recoiled slightly, letting out a, "Don't fucking touch me." But Roy held tight, and Ed didn't fight him.

He spoke, keeping the boy cocooned within his arms. "Edward, I am so, so sorry. I wish I could find some way to express how bad I feel. I was a dick, trust me, I know. But I hate how much I've hurt you and I hate you avoiding me. I want you to trust me. I know it will take a while to earn your trust again, if I even can, but I want to try. I'm sorry."

The blonde spoke, his voice softened by fabric. "The worst part is that you don't even know how much it hurts, why it hurts so _bad_…"

Roy released him, and leaned down to look Ed in the eye. "What do you mean?"

Edward stared back at him, and answered with a question of his own. "Didn't you ever wonder why I was so open, why I didn't resist that night?"

* * *

**It's getting intense! Only one more chapter to go!**

**Just wanted to say a quick thank you for all the feedback I'm getting on this-keep the reviews coming! Let's see if we can make this my most reviewed fic, huh?**


	8. Chapter 8--End

Whatever Roy was expecting, it wasn't that. Perplexed, he answered immediately with the truth. "I mean, I guess I wondered a little, but—" he winced, knowing what he had to say next wasn't going to gain any points with Edward. "—I wasn't really thinking about it then…and since that night I've been more worried about what I did to you and how much you were hurting than why you were okay with it…" he trailed off, wondering how he could have managed to avoid thinking about something so obvious.

Edward just stared at him—no, around him. Was he…nervous? The blonde wasn't meeting his gaze, was shifting awkwardly from foot to foot.

Almost cautiously, Roy asked the question. "Ed? Why did you let me do that? Why were you so open to it?"

The boy before him took a deep breath, closing his eyes, and let out the words in a rush. "Because I _wanted_ it."

Roy had known this. Edward had begged for more, of course he had _wanted_ it. Still, something in the way he spoke shocked Roy, let him know that wasn't the only meaning. And Ed wasn't done.

The words were flying out of him now, though the blonde continued to stare at the floor. "I—I've had a thing for you for a while now. I always _wanted_ you, but I knew better, 'cause you liked girls…but then you asked me to see you and go to your house and I was so excited, and then you—you started kissing me—" here the boy's face flushed, but he continued. "—and I thought I had been wrong. I…as cheesy as it sounds, I thought my dreams were coming true, you know? So I didn't question it, and I was so happy, and then I woke up and you weren't _there_…" Ed sniffed, and wiped at his eyes.

Roy was…what, exactly? Surprised? Yes, incredibly so. Who would have thought that Edward Elric, the Fullmetal Alchemist, would have a crush on him? It seemed so outside of the realm of possibility that Roy briefly considered whether this might be Ed's way of getting back at him. But no—the blonde was crying softly now, trying to stifle the oncoming tears.

How could he have done this?

Finally, Edward continued, his voice shaky. "That's why it hurts so fucking bad. Because I should have known it was a one night stand, but I was so hopeful that I refused to believe that. And then to find out you weren't really into guys, into me, that it was just for a bet…that you _used_ me like that _and_ that I had no hope at all of really being with you…and the stupid thing is, I know you don't like me like that, but I can't stop liking _you_. I think back to that night and I hate it, and it hurts, but part of me cherishes the memory, and then you come in here and _fucking hug me_…"

Ed looked up at Roy, meeting his stricken gaze. "And I know you don't mean it romantically or anything," he whispered, "but I can't help but hope. I can't stop wanting that. I don't trust you, but…I still think I love you."

Roy felt like breaking down and crying himself. He had known that the boy was hurt, but this…this added a whole new level of horrible to what he had done.

"Edward," he choked out, placing his hands on the blonde's shoulders and crouching down to look him in the eye. Fucking hell, his eyes, gold and red rimmed and swimming in tears. "Edward, I know I've said I'm sorry. But now…I'm past that. I don't even know what word to use to tell you how much I regret hurting you. I…I _didn't know_. I understand that it was bad enough of me to take advantage of you like that even if it was just physical, like I thought it was. But trust me, if I had known how you felt…I _never_ would have done that to you."

Ed nodded, but didn't speak. As Roy watched him, he considered something else; mixed in with the guilt and shame he felt, there was something else. Excitement. Curiosity. Joy.

With a start, Roy realized something: he _liked_ that Edward liked him. As terrible as it was that the affection had caused him to hurt the boy more than he had realized, Roy was…okay with it being there.

Roy slid his hands down Edward's arms, watching his face carefully. The younger alchemist's eyebrows drew together in confusion as Roy reached his hands, holding them in his own. Roy's legs ached from the awkward position, but he held it, refusing to break his stare.

"Ed?"

"Yeah?" The blonde asked, voice rasping slightly. He coughed. "Yeah?" he murmured again, clearer this time.

"Would you like to go out to dinner with me?"

Edward jerked away, eyes flashing in anger. "Don't fuck with me!" he shouted. "Seriously? You come over, apologize over and over, and then try to play the same trick _again_? What is it this time? 'See how many times you can fuck Edward before he finally gets it?'" The boy was breathing heavy, eyes watering yet again. "You're _horrible_!"

Roy held up his hands. "You misunderstand me. I'm serious. You just told me you like me…love me. And oddly enough, I'm…happy about that. I want to take you out for real this time."

Ed continued to glare at him, suspicion sharp in his eyes. "How can I trust you?" he asked quietly.

"You can't," Roy responded. "I know that. I have to earn your trust back. But I do want to try going out with you. Just dinner," he promised, seeing the doubt lingering on Ed's face.

"Just dinner?" Edward confirmed.

Roy nodded. "That's it, I promise. In a restaurant, nowhere near my house. We won't go back to my place after dinner, I won't try anything funny, and I'll do my best to make sure you have a really good time."

At this point, the blonde was blushing. "A…date?" he asked shyly. Funny, how Ed could be so open and eager for sex but the prospect of an actual date had him nervous.

"Exactly," Roy smiled. "A real date. Not for a bet, not for anyone or anything but you and me."

"I'm scared," Edward admitted. It might have been the first time Roy had ever heard the boy utter those words.

"Don't worry," he assured. "It'll be the best night of your life. I'll make sure of it."

Even though Roy had resisted the urge to wink, Ed blushed again. Roy held out his hand.

"Shall we?"

Hesitant, staring up at him as though his gaze could force any lies out of Roy (though there were none to find), Edward nodded and took his hand.


	9. Author's Note

**WOW! Thank you guys so much-you did it, you made this my most-reviewed story!**

**Really though, I had such a great mix of critique and praise in these reviews, it was amazing. You guys rock!**

**How'd you like this one? I thought it was one of my better fics, but let me know how you feel!**

**Sad that it's over, but there's more RoyEd on the way...(as of now I have 2 longer fics-one is a continuation of Sold/Bartered-and 4 oneshots planned)**

**Keep watch~**


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